


Saut dans le Vide

by kavinskt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x12, 12x12 Coda, ? - Freeform, Coda, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), Happy Dean, Late Night Conversations, M/M, coda 12x12, early morning conversations, spn coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 19:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10771182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kavinskt/pseuds/kavinskt
Summary: It's a few days after the Lance of Micheal was destroyed. Run off their feet with research regarding the nephilim, Dean and Castiel finally crash in the kitchen in a haze of exhaustion over two cups of mediocre tea and love declarations.





	Saut dans le Vide

Dean walks into the kitchen at 3:54am, arms wrapped around himself. Cas meets his gaze when he walks in, and they silently acknowledge that neither of them are looking too good at the moment. 

Cas is hunched over a book, dark hair a complete mess as he buries his fingers in it. Dean leans against the counter as the kettle boils and watches him, head titled to the side because his neck is too damn tired to hold itself up right. They're both quiet while the water boils, and Cas only looks at him when it finishes and the lever-button pops back into place. Either that, or the hole Dean had been staring into the side of his head became too much. Regardless, Dean doesn't stop.

"Who knew I'd end up with an angel in my kitchen." He mutters, voice low and amused.

Castiel squints, gives Dean the 'I don't understand and I'm not sure if I care to' look he's grown accustomed to now that Cas stays at the bunker and they encounter each other at their most disoriented of states, usually some time around 3am. 

"I'm just saying. Who knew I'd be making tea for a Warrior Of God at 3:56am on a Tuesday, in my kitchen." 

Cas stares at him in confusion for a few more moments, and Dean's lips are quirked upwards as a rush of sleep-deprivation induced fondness for Cas washes over him. The angel sucks in a breath and says, all sandpaper and gravel, lips swollen and chapped, "Use the decaf tea bags." 

Dean hums a laugh, blinking groggily as he turns around and grabs two mugs and the tea from the press. He fills them with scolding water and puts honey in both, stirring subconsciously as the steam from the cups warm his face. Perhaps he stood there, stirring, for just a bit too long, because he feels someone slide past him towards the fridge and when he looks to his left Cas has grabbed a carton of milk and is loping towards him.

Dean looks at him, accusing. "What are you doing?" 

Cas stares back, completely unfazed. His baggy pyjama pants and old grey tshirt look hilariously good on him and Dean wants to laugh. He stands close, pouring milk into his tea as leisuirely as possible until, finally, he answers. 

"I am adjusting my tea to meet my preferences." 

"No, dumbass, I mean what are you doing up? Sit down. The whole reason I came in here was to make you tea so you didn't have to get up and do it." 

Cas is pressed against Dean's side as he stirs his cup, but Dean doesn't question it because he's kind of in the way. That's not to say he's going to step out of the way. 

There's a quiet happiness radiating off of Cas, and Dean ducks his head slightly to see if he's smiling. He is. Something like pride spreads through Dean's chest, warm and victorious.

"I appreciate your efforts." Castiel says as he takes his cup and shuffles back to the table. Dean huffs at his retreating figure, biting at the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He doesn't know what he's feeling, but it's something between drunk and dreaming. 

Cupping the tea in his hands, he shuffles to the table and doesn't think twice about sitting on the chairbench thing beside Cas, setting his cup down right next to Cas' so he has an excuse to keep their sides close. Cas busies himself with the book in front of him, bleary eyes unfocusing and refocusing on the words before him. Dean watches him unabashedly, warm and sated by both the tea and Cas' presence. He runs his gaze up and down his face- looks at this almighty being who has fought wars, saved lives, moved the continental plates no doubt- and watches him sip from his bright yellow mug, with his crows feet and eye bags and cupid's bow lips, equipped with Dean's old pyjamas. God, Dean's in love. 

Oh. 

"Dean?"

Oh.

"Hm?"

He's in love. In love with Cas. 

"Do you need something?" 

He's in love with Cas. Something clenches in his chest. Why does he feel like crying? 

"No." Dean says, and his voice sounds watery and exhilirated and unbelievably content all at once. Cas looks up at the sound of him and looks slightly unnerved. His lips part to complete his signature worried gaze, and suddenly Dean notices that this is the look Cas gives him all the time. The worried lover look. How fucking blind could he possibly be, not to notice the way Cas looks at him? Does he look back the same way? Suddenly, all comments regarding him and Cas over the years add up, and he remembers Uriel, the bastard, saying, "See, Castiel, he's got this weakness. He likes you." and he thinks, with a burst of amusement, why he never asked if he meant like, or _like_ like? And why is it a weakness? If Dean's got the same weakness, do they cancel each other out? Because Dean's never before in his entire life been sure so sure of having a specific weakness as he is at this moment.

"Dean." Castiel says, and it looks like he's been repeating himself. "Are you okay?"

He's never realized something about himself and come to terms with it in the space of twenty seconds before. He thinks, he'd like to give it a try, and he's scared but grinning and Cas probably thinks he's wacked out of his head when he says, "I'm in love with you.", over a cup of lukewarm tea at 4:06am on a Tuesday, in his kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah ok this was entirely written for myself because i needed that type of closure  
> death to dean repressing his emotions every day of his life


End file.
